


So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

by hedwwig



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Multi, Other, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedwwig/pseuds/hedwwig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series chronicling the ways in which the study group is always there for each other. Now I dare you to get the Friends theme tune out of your head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

**Author's Note:**

> Installment 1. As I said in the summary, hoping to make this a series. This chapter obviously focuses on Jeff&Abed, with a sprinkling of Annie. Leave suggestions in the comments for later chapters, if you feel so inclined! They'd be appreciated.

Jeff didn’t even bother knocking when he got to the door of Apartment 303- he simply shoved his weight against the door and burst in, not knowing or caring if the door had been unlocked before it caved against the force of his worry and fear. 

Abed was standing a few feet away, facing the couch. He didn’t even flinch at Jeff’s dramatic entrance. He just stood there, staring at the fragile figure on the sofa before him. 

Jeff was horrified. He ran to Annie’s side, grabbed her hand, checked her pulse- there, but god, was she clammy. He put his ear close to her mouth; her breathing was shallow and erratic. 

A glance over his shoulder at Abed told him he was alone in the action-taking role, here. He scooped Annie up, limp as a ragdoll, and rushed out into the hallway. An ambulance would take too long at this point- besides, Abed had called  _him_.

As he rushed down the stairs with his friend in his arms, he heard a pair of footsteps descending behind him. 

 

~~~

 

After a long, tense car ride, Jeff Winger sat across a rickety table from Abed Nadir in the waiting room of the ER- alone but for the coffee cups between them and an older, heavily made-up woman reading a magazine in the corner. It had been almost an hour since Annie had been rushed away by a gaggle of nurses, and still not a word had passed between them. Jeff kept glancing at Abed, who was staring straight ahead over Jeff’s shoulder, his coffee cup untouched, his eyes unblinking.

Jeff wanted to be patient, but he was scared, and Annie was very sick, and he wanted answers more than he wanted to cater to Abed right now. Still, he tried to be nice. He stopped pretending to text, and even went so far as to set his phone down in front of him. 

"Okay, listen. I need you to talk to me instead of this… this whatever you’re doing right now. You call me at midnight, don’t even identify yourself on the phone, and hang up after ‘Jeff, come here.’ I show up and two of my best friends are in a catatonic state, one more seriously so, and suddenly I’m playing ambulance. What the hell?! Why didn’t you call… I dunno, an actual ambulance? 9-1-1 isn’t that hard to dial! Also, do you think it might be pertinent to tell me what’s wrong with her? Just an idea, but don’t let me inconvenience you or anything."

His voice rose in volume the more he spoke, ‘till by the end the woman in the corner had looked up from her tabloid and raised an eyebrow at them. Jeff couldn’t bring himself to care if he was being judged by someone who looked like Tammy Fay at 2 am at a hospital on a Tuesday. He just stared at Abed, silently demanding answers. He waited for almost a solid minute before receiving any.

"I didn’t know what to do."

Jeff figured he had never heard his friend sound so afraid. He blinked, and suddenly noticed that Abed was shaking all over, and his breathing was almost as shallow as Annie’s had been when he found her. 

Jeff softened immediately at the sight, and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

"I didn’t know what to do, and you always know what to do. And Troy’s gone and I was so scared I figured if I tried to drive I’d wreck the car and I don’t know why I didn’t just call an ambulance except I guess I just didn’t, because I hate doctors and I hate the hospital and I don’t trust any of them and I’m still terrifed right now because I don’t know what’s wrong with her or what they’re doing to her or if she’s gonna be okay and if she’s not okay it’s definitely my fault because-"

Here it was Jeff’s turn to cut Abed off.

"HEY. Abed. Buddy. No. Hey, look at me."

Abed stopped talking, but didn’t move or blink, even. A muscle in his left cheek jumped. Jeff supposed that would do.

"Annie’s gonna be fine. None of this is your fault- you did the right thing! You didn’t know what to do, so you called me. And that’s fine. I don’t… I don’t mind at all. That’s why I’m here, okay?"

Abed didn’t respond. Jeff sighed, and awkwardly put his hand over Abed’s in some kind of gesture of compassion or solidarity.

"Look… I’m sorry I snapped okay? Please look at me…"

Abed looked at Jeff’s hand. Good enough.

"You did exactly the right thing, Abed. When you don’t know who you can trust or who’s gonna be useful… your options are understandably limited. It’s okay. We got her to the hospital, and she’s gonna be fine, and so am I, and so are you."

Jeff followed Abed’s lead, and glanced down at their hands before trying once more to pick up eye contact.

"I want you to promise me that I’ll always be the person you call when you don’t know what to do, okay? And in return, I promise I’ll always pick up the phone. I’ll always be there."

Abed nodded almost imperceptibly, and Jeff allowed himself a small half-smile. He squeezed Abed’s hand, and to his surprise Abed squeezed back, simultaneously interlacing their fingers as he closed his eyes and took a breath. His grip was strong, even if his hands (like the rest of him) were still shaky. 

 

Jeff gave a tiny nod of his own, and grabbed Abed’s other hand, covering both of them with his own. He sighed, willing himself to believe that what he told Abed was true, that Annie would be okay. 

She had to be. 

Abed’s hands were cold, and the hospital was quiet. 

Together, they waited. 


End file.
